


The Best Birthday

by mimosabrunch



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Baking, Birthday Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Marriage Proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:27:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24593011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mimosabrunch/pseuds/mimosabrunch
Summary: Hermione sets out to surprise her boyfriend by baking his favorite cake for his birthday without the help of his house elves, only to end up surprised herself.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Kudos: 84





	The Best Birthday

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is my first work here, so please go easy on me. Hope you enjoy!

Hermione Granger was the brightest witch of her age and yet it seemed, she was about to be bested by a goddamn lemon meringue cake. She’d sent Draco’s house elf away hours ago, much to Mitsy’s wailing that had sounded through the manor for a half hour following. Then she set off to make the cake. She hadn’t told Draco. It was supposed to be a surprise, and he was due to arrive shortly, and she was still having trouble whipping the meringue. She was brilliant, but if she had to have baked at school, well, she wasn’t quite sure she’d have gotten as many NEWTS as she had.

She eyed her wand warily. It was coated with a dusting of flour, as was her hair, which had gone unruly. She smirked to herself; Draco had a soft spot for her messy hair. He liked trying to tame it with his fingers, soft yet unyielding against her scalp. 

Hermione shook her head. She needed to focus. She’d wanted to do this from hand. Draco had lost his pureblood ideologies shortly after the war, long before they’d started dating, but she wanted to prove that muggle cooking could be just as tasty as cooking that was whipped up by the wave of a wand. 

She was trying the meringue for the third time. The first, she’d kept the yolks in. The second, she’d realize the egg whites were still too cold. She wasn’t paying attention, which was a rare feat for her. It was just that she wanted this to be perfect, and it was making her scatterbrained. It was his first birthday with her, and she was determined to get it right. With Lucius in Azkaban and Narcissa having passed a few months earlier, Draco had smiled sadly and assured Hermione she didn’t need to do anything special for him today. Well, she was going to make his day perfect, so that it would close up the wound in his chest from losing his mum, at least for today. 

She was facing the stove when he Apparated in, the sharp crack of noise startling her so she ended up dropping the egg whites all over the hardwood. 

“Damn!” she said.

“Hermione?”

She turned to face Draco sheepishly. “Surprise.”

His eyes roamed her face, and he brought his thumb against her cheek, brushing off spare flour. “You’ve made quite a mess, love.”

“I was trying to surprise you,” she said. “I know you said not to make a fuss, but I figured today would be hard for you with your mum gone, so I wanted...it sounds rather silly now that I’m saying it out loud. Of course a bloody cake won’t bring her back or make you happy.”

“It’s not silly,” Draco said, voice firm. “And a cake may not make me happy, but you do. I don’t care about a cake when I have you. Why didn’t you ask Mitsy to make it?”

Hermione grumbled an inaudible response.

“What was that?” Draco asked.

“I wanted to prove that muggle cooking can be just as good as magical,” Hermione said, folding her arms. “Plus, you know I don’t love relying on house elves. Anyway, I think you’ve got bad eggs.”

“I don’t doubt that muggle cooking is on par with magical,” Draco said, pushing a piece of flour-covered hair from Hermione’s face. “But you, my darling, are simply not a cook. If you recall, your attempts at cooking for me previously...have had less than desirable outcomes.”

Hermione grimaced. He wasn’t wrong. For their six month anniversary, she’d tried to make him her mother’s famous shepherd’s pie. But she’d underestimated her fatigue from the new position at the ministry and ended up falling asleep when it was baking. She’d had to head to that place in London she’d taken him to that he loved the chicken tikka masala from. If someone had told her when she’d punched him in the face during third year that she and him would not only date but have a favorite Indian restaurant that they ordered takeaway from regularly, she’d have laughed her sides sore. 

“Now,” Draco said. “What’s this about bad eggs?”

“Fine,” Hermione said, sighing. “Your eggs are fine. I just...did it incorrectly.”

“Is Hermione Granger admitting there’s something she’s not perfect at? I never thought I’d live to see this day.”

She swatted at him. “Oh, hush, you.”

He looked down at her, cradling her face in his hands, and grinning wildly as his eyes scanned her face, as if he wanted to commit each feature to memory, as if he could stare at her forever and it wouldn’t be enough.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Hermione asked. “Did a potion blow up in your face again today? Do I need to take you to St. Mungos?”

“Marry me,” he said, and his voice croaked as if the two words took him by surprise.

Her mouth dropped, and she had to brace her weight against him. “W-what?”

His smile grew. “Will you marry me?”

“You’re joking,” Hermione said, feeling uncharacteristically shy.

He pulled out the ring box from his pants pocket and rested it on the table. “I’ve been carrying it around for about a month now. I had something else planned, but I don’t think I can wait until then. I’m sorry. I’m sure this isn’t what you imagined. It’s terribly unromant---”

“Yes,” she said in a breath, her eyes heating with tears. “Yes, of course, I’ll marry you.”

She tilted her head up as he brought his lips to hers, both grinning madly into the kiss. Hermione giggled as Draco pressed kisses along her jawline before traveling down to her neck. 

“You’re distracting me,” Hermione said. “I have to finish the cake.”

“I can wait for later to show my enthusiasm,” he said. “But where are the eggs? I’ll help you with the cake. You should know by now that we work better together.”

“Can I see the ring?” Hermione asked.

“Hold out your hand, love.”

She did and he opened up the box to reveal a beautiful pear-shaped ruby ring with a cluster of diamonds surrounding it. 

“It’s red,” Hermione said. “Very Gryffindor of you, Draco.”

He laughed. “I thought you might like that. I considered an emerald, but I thought Potter and Weasley might kill me for it.”

“I don’t think I could defend you for that one.”

He slid the ring onto her finger, lacing their hands together. “Now, hand me the eggs, witch. Merlin knows I’m looking forward to showing you I can do something you can’t.”

She laughed and handed him the carton of eggs. “Just this one thing, though. I still best you everywhere else.”

“I’d be a fool to argue that, wouldn’t I?”

“And you’re certainly not a fool, Draco.”

She leaned up on her tiptoes to kiss him soundly, and then they set to work, bustling about the kitchen in harmony. It wasn’t how Hermione had planned it, but it had gone better than expected.

Later, after the cake had come out of the oven, smelling absolutely divine, Hermione smiled at him. “I hope your birthday was okay, even if I made a slight technical error with the cake in the beginning.”

“You agreed to be my wife, Hermione. This is the best birthday I’ve ever had.”


End file.
